


Friends and more

by lara_s



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassian Rebellion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4431539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lara_s/pseuds/lara_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love Kira and I love Kira/Odo.  I also fell in love with Damar during that last story arc.  I'm still pissed he died.  Here's a story about what could have happened between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends and more

He still couldn’t quite believe where he was and what he was doing. There was always this underlying sensation that at any moment he was going to wake up and realize it was all a strange dream. Legate Damar shook his head, but he still didn’t wake up. He was still on the bridge of this cursed Breen ship. Still attempting to free his people from the grasp of the Dominion. Him, a resistance leader! It was preposterous and yet, here he was.

And look where it brought him. In a heap next to the dead Vorta and various equally dead Jem’Hadar, his once loyal first office Rusot lay, shot down by Damar’s own hand. Staring at the weapon in his hands in horror, Damar wonders at what he has just done.  

Garak is bustling about claiming he’ll take care of things’ and starts to drag the bodies off the bridge. Before undertaking this little adventure Damar never imagined being thankful for Elim Garak. However, at the moment at least, he has to admit, he’s quite glad the sly Obsidian Order operative is around. Even more unreal than finding himself appreciating Garak though are his thoughts about the other member of his group. The woman he shot Rusot to protect. Kira Nyres. Bajoran terrorist. Dukat’s obsession. The woman who once beat him to a bloody pulp. A woman who has put everything on the line to help him in this mission. To help Cardassia. He realizes in that instant that he no longer resents her presence. That he is grateful for her and that he is coming to respect her. No, he figures, he doesn’t really regret shooting Rusot at all.

Not far from where Rusot had fallen, the changeling creature also had collapsed. From the looks of it, Odo would be following Rusot in death any moment now, though due to an entirely different cause. The founder’s disease struck Odo swiftly and fully. Helping them capture the ship by taking the female founder’s form had sapped his strength to the point that he now lay dying in Kira’s arms.

That was a bit of a shock Damar had to admit. He’d heard the rumors about her taking up with the changeling, but he hadn’t actually believed it. Until now. The two of them were wrapped up in each other talking softly. With no one else left in the small space, Damar couldn’t help but overhear them. He gives them the decency of acting as if he can’t hear them, though he very much doubts that they even notice his presence anymore.

“Odo, my dear Odo, ”Kira’s voice is thick with emotion. She smooths back his hair and kisses him softly on the forehead. “Neither one of us has had an easy path to walk have we?” She stares off for a moment and then resumes speaking. “Do you remember Jadzia’s holosuite programs? The ones from old Earth called fairy tales or something like that. Where the prince rescues the princess and they live happily ever after? I always told her that was crap, but you and I, we got our happily ever after. I wish it could have been for longer, but I’ll cherish and be forever thankful for the time we’ve had.” What we had together was special, blessed by the prophets.

“I say we’ve been blessed by Vic Fontaine,” Odo barely manages to choke out the words.

Vic Fontaine? What the hell? Damar knew was no expert on Bajoran religion, but with all the years spent stationed on or near Bajor, he knew more than most Cardassians. And he’d never heard of this Vic Fontaine.

To Damar’s surprise, Kira bursts out laughing. “I’ll tell Vic that love,” she says to Odo, still chuckling.

“Nyres… I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Not a minute later, Odo’s body shakes violently. Damar watches in awe as Odo’s human form shimmers and morphs into a liquid gold that flows over the Bajoran woman for a moment. The gold mist almost seems to seep into the very pores of her skin. Then it disappears and is no more.

Tears are freely flowing down Kira’s face now. She makes no effort to wipe them away. Damar feels a bit guilty, like an interloper being privy to information he really shouldn’t know. He feels sympathy for her he realizes.   He needs the Commander’s expertise and he respects her abilities, but he’s rather surprised to find himself relating to her on such a personal level.

Damar’s introspection is interrupted by the sound of Kira slamming her fist into the bulkhead and yelling some choice Bajoran epithets. “Commander, I…”Not as quick and witty with his words as Dukat, Damar stumbles over what to say but thinks it necessary to say something. “I am sorry,” he comes up with lamely. His words however are enough to get her to pause her assault on the bulkhead and turn her attention to him.

Then Garak waltzes back through the door. “That rather unpleasant task taken care of, we need to be moving along now. Where is…” Garak’s ever cheery litany comes to halt as he takes in the sight of Kira, the pummeled bulkhead and Odo nowhere to be seen. Garak, with the eloquence that Damar lacked, nods in Kira’s direction. “My condolences. However, we have very little time before someone realizes we are on this ship. We need to leave and we need to do it now!”

Two tense hours later Garak announces “We did it! We are past the asteroid belt and no sign of pursuit. Good piloting there Commander. Course is being laid in back to Deep Space Nine.”

“Ok people,” Kira’s still in command here and she’s not about to let anyone forget it. “It should be easy enough from here on out, but I want one person on the bridge at all times. You two can figure out between yourselves who’s taking first shift because it’s not going to be me.”  

As soon as she walks off the Breen bridge, Kira feels it start to set in. She’s lost so many people – her family, virtually all her friends from the Bajoran resistance, Bareil. The complete and utter grief enveloping her is, unfortunately, a rather familiar if unwanted sensation. Oh, she’ll get through it. Eventually. In time, she knows, the rawness will fade to a somewhat more manageable dull ache. But right now it’s threatening to overwhelm her. In a daze, she puts one foot in front of the other hurrying down the corridor. She commandeers the first living quarters she finds. Stepping into the room, she can go no further. The memories flood forth into her mind. A Tarkalean hawn soaring over the promenade. Sitting in the security office reading the daily reports together. Their first kiss. Lying in arms. The bittersweet agony of knowing Odo is truly and forever gone is a pain so strong that it brings her to her knees. She slides to the floor and leaning against the wall starts to sob in earnest.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours that she sat there, she isn’t sure. It isn’t until the door alarm chimes that she gets up. She doesn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed by the interruption, but she stands up and makes her way to the door regardless. Damar is there, two bottles of kanar in his hand as if in invitation.

“Are you freaking serious?” she snaps at him. “No. No kanar. You can go drink yourself into oblivion until you pass out for all I care. I’m not going to stop you, but if you do, you are no longer the new leader of Cardassia.”

He looks at her in shock, nods his head and pushes past her into the room. With more force than is strictly necessary, he throws the bottles into the trash receptacle. “You know, I promised myself no more of this poison when this rebellion started.” He stresses the world _rebellion_ , making it sound like a dirty word. To a Cardassian, Kira figures, it probably is. “Obviously, I am weak,” he continues, self-disgust and anger practically oozing from his voice. “Perhaps you are correct that I am not fit to lead. Time will tell. I’ll go now. Sorry for disturbing you Commander.” He goes to leave but she blocks the door.

“Damar,” she says in a softer tone. “You are not weak. Far from it. And please… don’t go just yet. I… I would appreciate the company.” She gestures towards the chairs.

“I don’t particularly want to be alone right now either,” he confesses and sinks into one of the chairs. Kira fusses with the Breen food replicater and manages, in short order, to get it to materialize two raktajinos.

“I owe you an apology Damar,” she begins as she hands him one of the cups. “For what I said before.”

He winces as he remembers her harsh words. “ _Yeah Damar, what kind of people would give orders like that_.”

Kira continues, “I’m not sorry for the sentiment behind it, your people have been brutal, but I am sorry for the loss of your family and I was tactless.”

He lets out a long sigh. “You are bluntly honest Commander. You were correct and I needed to hear it. We, as a people have much to atone for.”

Kira studies the man in front of her slumped over in the chair. This Cardassian who has done terrible things but whom she’s grudgingly come to respect. “Your actions during the occupation, killing Ziyal and prophets know whatever else you’ve done… Your hands are stained with blood Damar. But you know what? Who am I to judge you? Who am I to hate you? My hands are just as stained as yours. I killed Cardassian civilians. There was a time I would have happily destroyed your entire race if I could have. I killed Bajorans, my own people, who were only doing what they had to do to survive. I called them collaborators and laughed as they died. There’s nothing you or I can do about our past. It happened. All we can do is try to make the blood spilt mean something, be for a greater good. You aren’t the man you used to be Damar. You really have changed, grown beyond being Dukat’s thug. And you will be the one to lead your people into a new era.” Her soliloquy over, Kira sits down in the opposite chair, slightly embarrassed at her outburst but nonetheless passionate in her support of Damar.

“I can only hope their deaths can mean something,” he says softly, referring to his family. “That this will be worth it. I could have kept them safe, but I can’t sit back and do nothing while Cardassia is destroyed.”

“I know Damar,” she says and he sees the understanding in her eyes.

They fall into a comfortable routine. When not on the bridge, they are together. Something about each other’s presence eases the pain for both of them. Sometimes they simply sit in easy silence, lost in their respective memories and grief. Sometimes they talk about frivolous inconsequentials, sometimes about work, the war. And sometimes even delving into more intimate personal conversations about their lives and the people they’ve lost. Garak, of course, notices the new closeness developing between his two crewmates but wisely keeps his thoughts to himself and says nothing.  

It’s on the third night of their return voyage that it happens. Looking back, Kira figures it was probably inevitable all along. They are in her quarters. Damar is agitated, pacing and ranting in anger. It seems only natural for Kira, standing behind him, to place a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. Damar stops talking. “Are you intending to offer me physical comfort Commander?” he says in a sneering tone that’s almost reminiscent of Dukat.

He is shocked when she doesn’t immediately remove her hand and instead says softly, “Is that what you want Damar? Will that help?” He turns around and looks carefully into her brown eyes.

“Yes,” he says simply and honestly, “but I hardly expect…”

She cuts him off by clasping her arms around his neck and burrowing her face into his shirt. “Fuck the pain away, is that it?” she says into his chest. “We use each other’s bodies and for a moment we feel something good again?”

He tentatively puts his arms around her, half expecting her to push him away. Squeezes her tight and relishes the feel of her small fierce form against his body. He can’t help himself. “I can promise you it’ll last for more than a moment,” he retorts with a grin.

“Smug, arrogant Cardassian,” she shoots back, but there’s no real venom in her voice.

“Loud-mouth, reckless Bajoran.” He feels her laughter at his words and Damar starts to laugh himself. Perhaps this isn’t such a bad idea after all, he ponders. Their plan to forget themselves in each other is already working.

Then her warm mouth is on his. Hard and demanding. Her tongue licking his lips and then the inside of his mouth. There’s a desperate hunger in her actions that he understands all too well. It’s why they are doing this after all.

He matches her kisses with a hunger of his own. Clothes are discarded quickly. She, not surprisingly, seems to want to be in control so he lets her push him onto the bed and sit on top of him. Straddling his thighs, she runs her hands up and down his bare broad chest, fascinated by the texture of his alien skin. Tracing her hands up and over his shoulder ridges she shakes her head in disbelief at the situation she’s found herself in.

“I don’t quite know what to do with you Damar,” she confesses. “I never was one of your damn comfort women. I haven’t a clue what Cardassians like.”

“You’re doing admirably well thus far,” he says rather breathlessly, “but here, let me take over.“ He reaches his hands up to caress her breasts. His rough callused hands elicit a moan from deep within her. After a time, his hands drift down to her waist and he slides her further up his body bringing her breasts within reach of his mouth. She closes her eyes and lets the sensations of sheer pleasure wash over her as Damar suckles on her.

If there was any stray thought left in her mind at all, it evaporates entirely when, his hands still on her waist, he lifts her a second time and places her so she’s now straddling his face. His tongue traces her folds and he feels her body shudder. He repeats the action a second and then third time eagerly tasting her.

She cries out, “For prophets sake Damar, finish this already!”

He takes another taste then flips them over so she’s lying on her back against the pillows. He looms up over her. Looking at the glorious woman beneath him, he hesitates for a moment, unsure of himself. How can she possibly want this with him?

Kira however is way past any such hesitations. She reaches for his thick swollen manhood and takes him in her hand. As she strokes him it’s his turn to shudder. She squirms underneath him to better position herself and tells him again to finish what they’ve started. Lost to the moment, he does as asked, over and over again.

He’s not there when she wakes up. She didn’t expect him to be and, to be honest, she appreciates the privacy. There’s surprisingly no awkwardness between them later. Their night together cements a complicated but strong relationship. It’s not a romantic love that they have exactly, Kira tells herself, but rather a bond of mutual respect, admiration and, she’ll even admit, friendship. The next night, after another bout of ‘physical release’ that’s even more potent than the first she invites him to stay and falls asleep in his arms.

After a week’s journey aboard the Breen ship, they arrive back to a very different Deep Space Nine than the one they left. Unable to use the communication channels aboard the Breen ship, much has happened in their absence they are unaware of. Admiral Ross greats them in the airlock and whisks them straight off to a debriefing session.

The war is over as of just that morning. The founders are all dead from the disease. With the founders gone, the Jem’Hadar and the rest have been quickly neutralized. Sisko is with the prophets now and Ross offers command of the station to Kira. In front of everyone there in the conference room, Kira tells him just where he can put his Starfleet insignia. That she will not work for or with a government responsible for the genocide of an entire race that included her beloved Odo. Garak applauds wildly and tells Ross that she’s right. Damar, strong and silent as ever, simply grins and gazes at her with unabashed pride. Ross, looking rather ashamed, backpedals and eventually manages to convince her that something will be done about Section 31 so she ultimately accepts.

Damar, as expected, is hailed as the new hero and leader of the Cardassian Union. He and Garak are anxious to return to rebuild their world. He doesn’t go however without asking that Kira be appointed as an official advisor to the new Cardassian government. She accepts that role too. Damar leaves within hours of their arrival at the station. He hugs her fiercely before he goes and tells her “Thank you Nerys, for everything.” She returns the sentiment. “Take care Corat.” They both know they are ready to move on.

Her life has changed so drastically but in many ways things remain the same. She takes over Sisko’s role easily and competently. It’s what she knows after all. Same old routine, though being Deep Space Nine, it’s rarely boring. Nearly everything on the station reminds her in some way of her changeling lover. The sadness of losing Odo remains and is a constant presence in her heart, but she comes to find she’s able to think about him and their love without falling to pieces. Which is, of course, exactly how he would have wanted it.

She watches, over the coming months, with great satisfaction as Damar shapes a new Cardassia. They maintain their nightly talks in a fashion, communicating frequently over subspace and in person visits here and there. She is an advisor for him after all. The new Cardassian-Bajoran alliance they are forming is still in its infancy, but it’s promising. On the one year anniversary of said alliance, Damar proposes a different type of Cardassian-Bajoran alliance and asks her to marry him. She says yes.


End file.
